The War of The Fandoms
by Cececat
Summary: Two fan clubs (Star Trek fans vs Star Wars fans) having been 'fighting' for years. Between publicly shouting insults in Klingon and stealing beloved costumes, they never stop. To make matters worse, Julie the Star Wars fan and Jonathan the Trekkie fall in love. After Q sends the two to Picard's ship, chaos (and trolling security officers via singing badly) ensues. (Please R/R)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimers:** **None of the characters are real in any way. They town they live in isn't even real.**

A/N: Though none of the _Star Trek: TNG_ characters show up in this chapter, they will soon.

* * *

 _Captain's Log, Stardate 68938.4 (June 22, 2015, 12:24 PM)_

 _A young man named Michael has joined our crew as Ensign. He's got an amazing memory for names, which will surely prove useful._ _In other news, our hated enemy spray-painted our headquarters again. I'm not sure what this 'holiday special' they likened us to is. I suspect it's something dreadful, judging by context. Ensign Michael is cleaning it off now, thankfully. My Tactical Officer is planning to enact our revenge next week. Even since the latest school year ended (on the 19th), we've been devoting much more time to fighting our dreaded foe. Judging by the paint on the outside walls, the_ Star Wars _fan club has been doing the same._

 _-Patrick Barrett, Captain of the Star Trek Fan Club_

* * *

June 23, 2015

Gallifreystown, Pennsylvania

Dear cousin Julie,

I know your mom probably mentioned it already, but you're going to spend most of summer vacation at my house! Since you haven't been here in ages, you don't know the fan club yet. Life would be so boring if it weren't for them! Also, I'm hoping to have a party when you get here. I'll get my fan club to host it. Though you might want to send a list of favorite songs or whatever.

Speaking of fan clubs... I better warn you to avoid the Trekkies. They're our sworn enemies. Stay away from those troublemakers. I'll explain in more detail once you're actually here.

From,

Caroline

* * *

 _June 24, 2015_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I can't wait to see my cousin Caroline… and her Star Wars fan club! Though we haven't spoke face to face in ages, we send letters back and forth at almost weekly. Ever since I found out that I'd be staying with her over summer break, I've been so excited! Though I_ am _16, I've never stayed away from home without my parents._

 _And her hometown sounds so cool! An old legend there says that, in 1790, a blue box appeared in the sky and a girl fell out. This surprised the nearby farmers, who later befriended her. She soon named the once-nameless farming village after the town in England she came from. Of course, there isn't a town in England called Gallifreystown. But it makes a nice story._

 _Well, let's save all those stories for later. What really matters is that my Aunt and my cousin are driving to my house today. They'll eat dinner with my family for the first time in ages… and tomorrow, they'll drive back to their house with_ me!

 _Oh, I can't wait!_

 _\- Julie_

* * *

June 25, 2015

Dear Diary,

I'm sitting in the backseat of my Aunt Beth's car as I write this. My cousin Caroline is sitting next to me, looking incredibly annoyed. For the first 2 (out of 3) hours, everything was perfectly fine. We spent most of that time watching _Star Wars IV: A New Hope_. I made a terrible mistake once the movie ended.

"Can we watch _Attack of the Clones_ , now?" I asked.

Caroline stared at me. "That's not _Star Wars_. That's shit."

"Watch your language, Caroline Owens," Aunt Beth scolded.

"But it's true! I know it's not the _Phantom Menace_ or the Holiday-special-of-which-George-Lucas-does-not-speak, but it's pretty awful. Are you even a real fan, Julie?"

"Of course!" I replied.

In my heart, however, I began to question that. Am I a true fangirl, or a stupid mainstream person going through a far to brief phase? I desperately hope it's the former. What makes a fan? Shelves-upon-shelves of expanded universe novels? Nay, 'tis the truest feelings the fan doth feel in their heart. Not hours of typing fanfiction, not memorizing numbers and such. 'Tis what thou thinks is most true, forsooth.

Holy shit, I sound like Shakespeare!

But it makes sense to me now. A fan is only a fan because they say/believe they are a fan. Not because they hate the prequels. I'd better keep that to myself, though. If Caroline's fan club really is throwing a party for me, I better behave.

Oh, I better stop writing now.

Caroline just threw a _Star Wars_ Expanded universe book at me. I think she wants me to read it so I can become a better fan.

\- Julie

* * *

 _Captain's Log, Stardate 68946.6 (June 25, 2015, 12:45 PM)_

 _Lt. Commander Kate Spinner, my Operations and Communications officer, has received possibly devastating news: our enemy is playing host to a possible ally of their's. After calling my entire crew to a meeting, we have decided to infiltrate a social gathering they are known to be hosting this evening. An away team consisting of First Officer Becker, Comm Officer Spinner, and myself shall attempt to assess what threat this newcomer may pose._

 _\- Patrick Barrett, Captain of the Star Trek Fan Club_

* * *

The Holojournal of Mark, leader of the Rebel Alliance

(Fighting the Gallifreystown Empire since 2012)

June 25, 2015

I can't believe Caroline is making us throw a "little get-together" for her cousin. Only a few days after our latest attack on the enemy base and now we're having a _party_? We'll have to take turns guarding cars. My mom never forgave me for the time those damn Imperials painted _something_ (probably swear words) in one of their stupid made-up languages all over the car windows.

We later got back at them by playing the _Imperial March,_ as loudly as possible, through speakers hidden in their leader's backyard garden. It took them two days to figure it out.

But it's still hard to forgive them for the trouble they caused.

If they launch an attack during our party, I'm holding Caroline and her cousin responsible.

* * *

 **A/N Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: No characters in this are real. No places are real.**

 **A/N: the Star Trek club and Star Wars club characters are supposed to be comically over-the-top portrayals. I'm pretty sure real fanclubs aren't like that _._ They're supposed to be so crazy that it's not about liking Star Trek or Star Wars, it's about hating the 'other side'.**

* * *

The party was held in Mark's basement. The entire _Star Wars_ fan club was there, though not in costume. Julie spent most of the time meeting all the people.

Caroline's boyfriend Mark was technically in charge of the fan club. He also worked part-time at a comic book store, which "those stupid Trekkies" were currently boycotting (presumably because of Mark threatening them).

Mark had a best friend named Harris. He liked video games and computers quite a bit. Half the things he said were so computer-y that Julie didn't understand what they meant.

Harris had a younger sister named Anna. She wasn't very talkative.

After introducing Julie to Natalie (official costume repairer), Caroline left her cousin alone.

"I'm sure you can talk to people on your own, now," the girl said.

"You just want to make out with your boyfriend and don' t want me interrupting," Julie teased.

Caroline rolled her eyes and wandered off.

There were only two 'official' fan club members Julie hadn't spoken to yet (creepy-lookalike twins named Anthony and Daniel), but lots of other 'allies' were there too. That meant family/friends of fan club members who weren't Trekkie sympathizers.

Julie suddenly saw a new face, a guy who hadn't been in the room only moments ago.

"Hello," she shouted over the movie soundtrack that blared out of nearby speakers.

This startled the boy.

"Sorry if I scared you," Julie said, blushing.

The music had changed to a slower, softer song: _Princess Leia's Theme_.

"My name is Julie Elndil. What's yours?"

"Jonathan. M-m-my name's Jonathan," he replied nervously.

She smiled slightly. "Jonathan? That's a nice name. I've never met anyone named Jonathan. There was a boy named John in my English class last year- oh, I'm babbling. I do that when I'm nervous…"

"That's fine."

 _His eyes are such a lovely brown color,_ Julie thought to herself. Their lips were nearly touching when…

" _Captain Barrett to First Officer Becker_ ," said the inside pocket Jonathan's jacket.

He took a small device out of said jacket. "I'm _busy_ Patrick."

" _You're supposed to say_ ' _Becker here' and_ then _tell me you're busy,_ " the device replied coolly.

"Whatever. But you just ruined a lovely little moment with a very nice girl."

" _What girl_?"

"It's not you're business, Patrick."

" _It_ is _my business, since you aren't off duty. You can pretend to be Will Riker later. Anyway, I'm supposed to be telling you to meet the rest of the away team at the rendezvous point in five minutes. Barrett out."_

"Who was that?" Julie asked.

"Just don't ask," Jon replied. He leaned in to kiss her when-

"WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU DOING, JULIET MARIE ELNDIL?" shrieked a voice that could've only been Caroline's.

To Julie's horror, Mark grabbed Jonathan by the collar and dragged him out of the building.

"That's what we do to Trekkies," Caroline said with far too much satisfaction.

Julie gasped. " _Trekkies_?"

This made Caroline chuckle. "Of course. That monster attempting to seduce you was their second-in-command."

"So… the only guy I ever properly liked is technically my sworn enemy?" Julie asked.

"Yeah."

"I sound like a bad remake of a Shakespearean tragedy!"

Later that evening, Julie and Caroline were sitting on the floor of the latter's bedroom. Julie trying to organize all the _Star Wars_ Expanded Universe books she'd brought with her by original publication date.

Caroline was attempting to explain the Fan Club rivalries.

"Our club only came into existence in 2011. The Trekkies have been around since the 1980s. Their original leader officially closed everything down when he got married in the mid-1990s. In 2007, that guy's oldest son took over. When that kid was in 12th grade, _his_ younger brother Patrick took over. June 2012 was when Patrick's reign officially began."

"That's who Jon was talking to, isn't it?"

"Yes. He's a lot worse than previous captains. His older brother was much more tolerant. The Trekkies used to tolerate the Ringers and us. But then they declared war on the former. By December, they were beaten. Nobody could publically declare themselves a fan of _the Lord of the Rings_ , because nobody wanted to cause trouble.

"They'd ignored us until after they beat the Ringers. During Christmas break 2012, Mark and Patrick had a meeting. There they decided what part of town belonged to which group. They also agreed on an area that didn't belong to anybody, known as the Neutral Zone. Anyone who trespassed on enemy territory was is big trouble."

Julie raised an eyebrow. "What was the worst they could do? I mean, can't people call the police on anyone?"

This made Caroline laugh a cold, cruel laugh. "The police? This is a different world. Within this world the laws are different. It's not the same. Did you see how many people were at that party who weren't officially part of the fan club? Those were the people who are on our side, but aren't devoted enough to actually be part of the club. It's more complicated than it seems."

"What do town adults think of this?" Julie asked. "Surely they don't condone such violence!"

"It began in the days of our parents. All the kids who are part of one of the fan clubs come from generations of this. It's like religion. My father raised me a _Star Wars_ fan. The fan clubs are just a way of making these rivalries official."

For the first time, Julie wished that Aunt Beth hadn't invited her to stay here for summer vacation.

* * *

 **A/N: Julie's last name is a combination of the Elven (from _The Lord of the Rings)_ words for 'star' and for 'friend'. It's supposed to symbolize the fact that she's a friend to both sides, not one. **

**Please review!**

 **(And I must say 'Thank You' to the person who reviewed chapter 1! It's good to see somebody's reading this.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No characters or places in this story are real.**

 **Disclaimer 2: _Star Trek:_ _TNG_ doesn't belong to 's characters don't, either. **

* * *

_June 25, 2015_

 _Dear Diary,_

 _At Caroline's party I met somebody. Well, technically I met lots of people. But one person really stood out in my mind. A boy named Jonathan. I only spoke to him for five seconds… and then he had to leave. Only seconds later I found out that he was one of the 'other side', one of the Trekkies the Star Wars club fights with._

 _Speaking of which…_

 _Why does it matter if they like Star Trek? The fan club rivalry doesn't make much sense. Can't people be fans of more than one fandom? According to my cousin Caroline the answer is no. As I write this I wonder what George Lucas would say? Having 'invented' Star Wars for the money alone, he'd probably just say: "go away!"_

 _I wonder who 'invented' Star Trek. I wonder what they would think of the 'war'. Would they be embarrassed by Jonathan sneaking into a party as some sort of undercover mission? Probably._

 _It's getting quite late now. Time to sleep._

 _\- Julie_

* * *

[June 26, 2015. 9:15 AM]

When Caroline walked into Julie's room to wake her up, she was quite surprised to see that the girl wasn't there. The bed had clearly been slept, at least. Caroline soon discovered that her cousin wasn't anywhere on the second floor of the house.

 _Maybe she went to the kitchen to get breakfast?_

"Julie?" Caroline called as she walked down the stairs.

No answer.

Caroline searched every single room on the ground floor, the entire basement….

Julie wasn't anywhere in the house.

 _Stupid girl left the house to get breakfast! And the closest thing this town has to a Starbucks is in Trekkie territory…_

Thankfully, Mark's family lived next door. One thing about small towns is that everyone lives really close together.

Caroline knocked on the door to Mark's house, praying he knew where Julie was. Finally, his mother opened it.

"Hello, Caroline. Are you looking for my son?"

She nodded. "Yes. Where is he?"

"Playing video games in the basement."

Caroline nearly knocked the poor woman over as she rushed to find her dear friend. There he sat, playing video games on his X-box.

"Mark Walter Lucianus, turn that damn game off right now!"

Rolling his eyes, he did so. "What's wrong?"

"Julie's gone missing."

"Do you think one of the Trekkie's kidnapped her?" Mark asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If they hadn't already, I'm sure they have by now."

Five minutes later, they were frantically searching the _Star Wars_ club territory and the Neutral Zone.

* * *

 _Captain's Log, Stardate 68949.4 (June 26, 2015, 12:45 PM)_

 _My First Officer, Commander Jonathan Becker, wasn't at the meeting we held this morning. A pity, since he was part of the Away Team that infiltrated the enemy's celebration. He hasn't been seen all day, in fact. I believe our foe has captured him. Tactical Officer Marie Rozhenko believes we should wait until the enemy admits they have captured Commander Becker before we do anything too extreme. Communications Officer Spinner says that the Commander probably ran off with the girl he met at the party, but I highly doubt it. I'd better organize meeting with the enemy's leader. That should keep violence to a minimum- on_ both _sides._

 _\- Patrick Barrett, Captain of the Star Trek Fan Club_

* * *

The Holojournal of Mark, leader of the Rebel Alliance

(Fighting the Gallifreystown Empire since 2012)

The nerve of those Imperials! They've definitely kidnapped Caroline Owens's cousin Julie. I can't believe they'd do something so bold. I haven't notified anyone yet, in case somebody has become a traitor. I told Harris to keep a look out for the poor girl, but he doesn't know why yet. The worst part is she's not an official member of the club yet. They've never done such a thing before. I'm going to send a message to their base in the hope that we can meet. Maybe while _I'm_ meeting with stupid ol' Patrick, Harris can lead a few of the others on a secret rescue mission.

Whatever happens, I sure hope we can explain it to Caroline's Mom without any trouble…

* * *

 _To: Mark, leader of the_ Star Wars _Club_

 _From: The Star Trek Fan club_

 _We have evidence that your so-called 'rebel alliance' has taken our first officer, Jonathan Becker, prisoner. In the hope that we could get him back, we'd like to organize a meeting to discuss this matter._

 _We will call a temporary ceasefire for this assembly. Any weapons you bring (including [but not limited to] spray paint, confetti-filled balloons, water pistols) will be confiscated upon your arrival at the meeting._

* * *

Dearest Patrick, 'Captain' of the stupid Trekkies,

I know you've kidnapped my girlfriend's cousin. No doubt it took quite a bit of work. Sorry, but we'd like her back now. We should meet for coffee (at that great café in your territory) so we can discuss you giving her back.

Yours,

Mark

* * *

 _Captain's Log, Supplementary_

 _Earlier this afternoon, a teenage girl was spotted in the Ten Forward without an accompanying adult. Nobody knows who she is as of yet. Our barkeep Guinan called security, but the girl disappeared by the time help could arrive._

 _In other, somewhat related, news: a strange boy was seen attending classes this afternoon. According to the teacher who brought this to my attention, he didn't appear to be registered in any class he attended or in any of the ship's computers. He is not yet perceived as a threat, though he's being held in the brig at this moment in time._

 _\- Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the Starship Enterprise_

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: None of the original characters in this are real.**

 **Disclaimer: the _Enterprise_ -D and it's inhabitants belong to Paramount Pictures and Gene Roddenberry's ghost (I guess...). Also, the musical movie humorously referenced/musically quoted belongs to 20th Century Fox and Richard O'Brien. **

**A/N: I hope that my descriptions of the _Enterprise_ (and its school) make sense.**

* * *

The morning after the party, Julie awoke to find herself somewhere that definitely wasn't where she'd fallen asleep. Aunt Beth's guest room looked nothing like this. In fact, she wasn't even in a bed!

Blinking groggily, Julie tried to figure out where she was. She soon realized she was lying on the floor beneath a table. There were lots of people walking around in the room, judging by all the feet she could see.

Was this a joke the Trekkies had played on her?

No, there couldn't be so many adults still an active part of the _Star Trek_ club. And everyone in sight appeared to be an adult. What could be going on?

Julie crawled from beneath the table, and then stood up. A woman in a strange outfit with an even stranger hat saw her, and beckoned her over to the bar.

 _Is this some kind of exclusive club?_ Julie thought as she fearfully made her way toward the woman.

"What're you doing here?" the strange woman asked. "You know that kids aren't allowed into a place that serves real alcohol. Where are you parents?"

"S-s-sorry. They're about three hours drive from here. In Baltimore, Maryland. I'm staying at my a-aunt's house."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you real think I'd fall for that one, kid?"

"Should I call security?" asked a man standing nearby.

He wore strange goggles of some kind over his eyes. It looked somewhat like a hair clip that had been spray-painted. This frightened Julie.

"Yes, Geordi. Hopefully they can find her parents and see that they get spoken to about this."

Terrified, Julie ran out of the room.

* * *

 _Captain's log, Stardate 68949.4 (June 26, 2015, 12:30 PM)_

 _Our terrible enemy claims that we have kidnapped one of their allies- the girl called Julie. Judging by a note they sent us, they know nothing of First Officer Becker's disappearance. A third party appears to be involved. In other news, Ensign Michael has refused to help in our latest attack on the adversary. He has also failed to report to mandatory meetings I've held. I'm beginning to suspect he is somehow involved in this mystery._

 _\- Patrick Barrett, Captain of the_ Star Trek _Club_

* * *

The second I woke up, I knew where I was. Engineering on the Enterprise-D. This was very bad, especially since I currently wore my 21st century plaid pajama pants and a tee shirt with a picture of the famous Rocky Horror Picture Show lips (it was the only clean shirt I could find last night, I swear!).

This is the 24th century. Nobody would recognize the tee shirt (except maybe a certain musical theatre loving Chief Medical Officer). And the plaid pants aren't too outlandish...

Yeah, I'd be fine.

So I left engineering. I quickly decided that I could blend in for a day or two in the ship school. As long as I didn't raise my hand in class, I'd be fine.

Hopefully.

It didn't take to long to find the school rooms. I looked for a room with kids my age. Soon I found one, but they're class had already started. Shit.

So I waited in the hallway for a while, praying that nobody would get suspicious.

Do kids skip classes in the 24th century?

Probably not.

By the time I'd mentally recited a few songs ( _Sweet Transvestite_ wasn't one, for your information!), the school bell had rung. I did my best to blend in to the crowd of teenagers. I did pretty well at this.

The class I ended up in was called Literature of Ancient Europe. This apparently included Dickens. They were currently studying _A Tale of Two Cities_ and comparing Sydney Carton to a mythological character from a traditional Klingon tale of redemption.

To my relief, nobody payed any attention to me.

I'd sat down in one of the middle rows of the class. The front row would be asking for trouble, but I'd also stand out in the back.

When the bell rang at the end of class, I tried to leave with everyone else- but the teacher stopped me. To my horror, she was a Vulcan.

"What's your name?" she asked.

There wasn't any reason to lie at this point. "Jonathan Becker."

"To my knowledge there aren't any people named 'Jonathan Becker' in the school. You clearly aren't lying. Years of teaching have made it easy for me to detect a liar. Who are you really?"

"It's a long story..."

"It always is. I've got another class in a few minutes, so I'm going to call security in. I'm sure they can deal with you."

Oh god. And I thought she hadn't noticed me...

Maybe it wasn't logical to draw attention to something out of the ordinary during her class.

When the security guard showed up, I was rather annoyed. I thought I was blending in fine!

"What's that... Symbol on you're shirt?" asked the security guard. She was a human with short brown hair and a cold expression.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you know any 20th theatre fans around here? Ask them."

The woman ignored my reply, then began leading me down the hall.

"You don't seem threatening. But I'm _supposed_ to take you to the brig."

"Holy shit. Are you serious?"

"Yeah. And the captains gonna hear about this, you know. So try not to do anything stupid."

It was weird, being in the brig. And boring. Really boring.

The excitement of being on the Enterprise-D had been replaced by dull annoyance. I began reciting songs in my head. Silly songs. And I began to sing... Badly.

" _Science fiction... Ooh ooh ooh... Double feature... Ooh ooh ooh... Doctor X will build a creature... See androids fighting... Brad and Janet... Ann Francis stars in... Forbidden planet... At the late night, double feature-_ "

"That's pretty good singing. Though I prefer the stage version of that song."

There stood Beverly Crusher, on the other side of the weird force field thingy.

"Why are you here?"

"They told me that you were wearing a shirt with a 'gang sign' that theatre fans understand."

"Really?"

"Well, people _did_ say that. But I'm really here to figure out who you are. I'm going to make sure you're human and test for any sickness you could infect the ship with. Radiation exposure, etcetera."

A guard clicked some buttons on a panel outside the cell, causing the force field to disappear temporarily. Dr. Crusher (and the brunette guard from earlier) entered the cell.

"I'm not dangerous," I said nervously, eyeing the phaser the guard carried.

Dr. Crusher chuckled. "I believe you, kid. But there are rules we must all follow when it comes to security."

She was right. If a random person appeared for no reason on the spaceship I worked on, what would I do? Come to think of it, I'd probably be so excited by the fact I was working on a spaceship that I wouldn't care about anything else.

* * *

 _The Holojournal of Mark, leader of the Rebel Alliance_

 _(Fighting the Gallifreystown Empire since 2012)_

 _Stupid old Patrick is claiming that we kidnapped his best friend. Why would he do that? Especially right now! Poor Caroline is terrified for her cousin. We haven't told her parents yet, but if we don't find anything out soon we're going to have to say something. And Anthony said that he suspects that his twin brother Daniel is a Trekkie sympathizer… This is getting way to serious._

* * *

 **Please Review! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: None of the characters in this are real or based on real people.**

 **(other) Disclaimer: _Star Trek_ and its wonderful characters belong to Paramount Pictures**

 **A/N: I seriously hope everybody is in character. _Especially_ Data (he's probably my favorite out of all the _Enterprise_ -D's crew members).**

* * *

(June 27, 2015. Caroline's house.)

After she found the letter from the Trekkies, Caroline was really scared. Their so-called 'First Officer' Jonathan had disappeared around the same time that Julie had. Either they'd run off together or somebody wanted it too look like they had.

Knowing Julie, the former was quite possible.

But it didn't really make sense. The only thing missing from Julie's room was one pair of pajamas and Julie herself.

Another thing was the necklace. On Julie's 13th birthday, her grandmother had given her an antique cameo necklace. As far as Caroline knew, the girl only took it off to sleep. There, on the bedside table, it sat.

Caroline carefully picked it up. The lovely silver chain looked so thin, so fragile…

Julie's grandmother had died only a year after she gave Julie the necklace. The girl wore it in memory of her grandmother. But now Julie herself seemed dead.

At that moment, Caroline decided to wear the necklace until her cousin came back. _If_ the girl came back…

(Teenagers are so very dramatic. Julie had hardly been gone for a day and people were practically planning her funeral!)

* * *

 _Dear Jonathan,_

 _Though you probably won't ever read this letter, its nice to be writing to somebody familiar. Miss Deanna says it's a good idea in this and, as a psychologist, she probably quite right. I've had a terribly eventful day. So far, nothing has made much sense to me._

 _I should start from the very beginning…._

 _Last night I fell asleep in my bed at Aunt Beth's house. This morning, however, I woke up beneath a table. Before today I'd never seen that table or the bar it was in. I learned that I wasn't supposed to be there from the bartender (who wore a very strange hat). She called security on me, causing me to panic and run away._

 _I didn't run very far before (literally) running into a self-professed android named Data. He was quite polite about it, strangely. I guess if you're made of metal, being accidentally punched in the stomach doesn't hurt too much._

 _Apparently Mr. Data wasn't 'on duty' during that part of the day. So, he took me to another part of the ship to get 'clothing more suitable for this time of day' (I still wore my pink polka-dot pajamas at the time). On this cool ship they can make stuff appear out of nearly nowhere! Mr. Data 'made' me a really cool outfit based on a picture I drew: a grey tee shirt with a cat on it, purple-and-black striped stockings, a pleated grey skirt, and black shoes with a 1-inch heel (Mom never ever let me wear heels, even though I'm 16). While I got dressed in the bathroom, Mr. Data made a waffle and two pieces of bacon appear in the making-thing-appear machine. Though I don't really like bacon, I ate it anyway because it's polite (actually, it's because I was really hungry. Don't tell nice Mr. Data…)._

 _After I ate, I asked Mr. Data why he was so nice to a total stranger._

 _"Because you seemed too frightened to be a threat. I realized you were lost. You clearly needed suitable clothing more suitable for the time and foodstuff of some kind. Even if you mistakenly referred to me by the strange designation 'C-3PO'," he'd explained calmly._

 _I then tried to explain what had happened to me during the last day. It seemed that he wasn't sure whether to believe what I said. Then, he took me to meet a lady named Deanna Troi. He said that she might be able to tell if I was lying on not._

 _When I got to her office, Mr. Data left._

 _But she was much nicer than I'd expected. We talked about all that had happened… and she believed me! She also lets me call her by her first name (unlike_ most _grownups)._

 _I'm writing this letter because she said it might help me be less worried about everything. She was right!_

 _Love,_

 _Julie_

* * *

Captain's Log, Stardate 68952.1 (June 27, 2015, 12:45 PM)

Everything seems to be falling apart. Between Ensign Michael never showing up at crucial meetings and First Officer Jonathan Becker actually _disappearing,_ the world seems to be going insane. I can only think of one thing to do about this: plan an all-out fight with our terrible enemy. Hatred for our rival seems to be the only thing all of us agree on. I shall contact their leader about this, even though haven't responded to our last message. Hopefully my First Officer will return soon. At this point I'm beginning to agree with Tactical Officer Rozhenko on the fact that he might've run off with that girl.

\- Patrick Barrett, Captain of the Star Trek club

* * *

 **As always... Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: None of the characters in this are real.**

 **Disclaimer 2: All of the Star Trek stuff belongs to Paramount Pictures and the wonderful (yet inconveniently deceased) Gene Roddenberry. Also, the songs Jonathan sings while locked in the detention block with no entertainment are all from _The Rocky Horror Picture_ _Show_ (which belongs to 20th Century Fox and Richard O'Brien). **

* * *

Nobody in the _Star Trek_ club was sure how they were supposed to fight the _Star Wars_ fans face-to-face. It didn't really work like that.

"Tactical Officer, have you thought of any ideas?" Patrick asked.

She blushed nervously. "Um, not really. I wrote an 1000-word essay about how _Star Wars_ and George Lucas are both incredibly stupid… but I'm not sure how to devise a battle plan using that."

"I wish Ensign Michael was here. Every good starship crew needs a redshirt and he was ours," Communications officer Kate Spinner said thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, that funny little kid we recruited a few weeks ago. Whatever happened to him?" asked Chief Engineer James (aka a tech savvy kid who's fixed his Mom's ancient Windows desktop a million times.).

Marie chuckled. "He apparently decided that he didn't like going to meetings at 8 o'clock in the morning or watching entire seasons of TOS in one day. Silly little coward"

"Ooh, I saw him at that awful coffee shop in the Neutral Zone yesterday. He was sitting at a table with one of the _Star Wars_ club creepy-lookalike-twins," Kate whispered secretively.

"That traitor!" a few people muttered.

Patrick rolled his eyes. Again. "We're _really_ getting off track, people. I think we should stop gossiping about Michael and go back to planning our battle strategy."

Suddenly, Tactical Officer Marie's face (metaphorically) lit up. "I've got a great idea! Why don't we dump buckets of paint on them? Even if they aren't wearing any dry-clean-only stuff, it should stain quite nicely."

Kate grinned maniacally. "Ooh, we could use that dreadful bright pink color my seven-year-old cousin used to paint her bedroom. I think she had an entire bucket of wall-paint left over!"

"That sounds like a good plan," said Patrick. "You should try to obtain that bucket of paint by this afternoon. Tactical Officer, I want you to think of a way to throw the paint at them without any getting on us."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Meeting dismissed," said Patrick, smiling cheerfully.

* * *

 _The Holojournal of Mark, leader of the Rebel Alliance_

 _(Fighting the Gallifreystown Empire since 2012)_

 _June 28, 2015_

 _I believe Patrick of the Trekkies has gone insane. Actually, I_ know _he went totally insane about three years ago. Whatever. The point is that he's gone crazy enough that he wants to have some sort of face-to-face fight on one of our borders. I've no clue why._ _I sort of want to send him a letter pointing out how ridiculous that sort of thing is (and possibly include a nice little brochure for the nearest mental institution in the same envelope). But something in the back of my mind says: "defend your honor and George Lucas! Ruin their dry-clean-only outfits with water pistols!"_

 _After thinking about that last bit, I invented a bunch of hilarious battle cries to shout at them. Maybe I have Scottish ancestors..._

Anyway _, I've decided that I'm totally going to agree to attend this 'battle'. I can send my worst enemy brochures implying his lack of sanity another time._

* * *

June 26 (or so Julie thinks)

On the starship _Enterprise_ , in the Counselors' office…

"So, what sort of person is Jonathan?" Troi asked the strange girl.

"He's a really nice guy I met him at a party a few days ago- actually, yesterday. Today has been so crazy it seems that home was a lifetime ago!"

Troi felt sorry for the girl. Well, at least the girl was adjusting better than most. Once the shock had worn off Julie seemed to be doing quite well.

Suddenly, the counselor realized something. This friend of Julie's just might be the teenager locked in the brig.

"Tell me a bit more about Jonathan. What's his last name, for example?"

"Well, his entire name is Jonathan Becker. He lives in the same town as my cousin Caroline, who I'm staying with for all of summer vacation. He's got brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice smile."

Counselor Troi chuckled. "I think I know the boy you're talking about. He's currently in the brig, sulking dramatically. He also happens to be wearing his pajamas. Maybe we could bring him some daytime clothes and you could talk to him for a while?"

The moment Troi recommended going to visit Jonathan, she sensed much enthusiasm from the girl.

"If it's really him…. then that sounds like a great idea!"

When they got to the detention block, Julie heard singing. She wasn't sure which was weirder- the song's lyrics or the fact that the singer was clearly Jonathan.

Soon, she saw the cell that he was locked in. There was a force field of sorts where one of the walls should've been.

"Jonathan! What on earth is going on?" Julie cried, rushing over to the cell.

He stopped singing.

"Oh thank, god. You made him shut up! That boys been singing all day long," said the guard.

Jonathan kicked the floor in annoyance. "I was bored. So bored I sang _Science Fiction/Double Feature_ four times, everyone's lines in _Over at the Frankenstein Place_ six times, Brad's lines in _Dammit Janet_ five times, Janet's lines in the same song three times, Dr. Scott's lines in _Eddie's Teddy_ , Longpork- er, I mean Meatloaf's lines in _Whatever Happened to Saturday Night,_ and-"

"And the song about the crossdressers about 100 times," the guard finished coldly.

"12 times. I only sang that 12 times."

Julie stared at him. "But why did you sing those songs? Why?"

"I've been bored. Very bored. Very, very bored. I've spent the whole damn day trying to remember lyrics to songs. I would've stolen a copy of _Tale of Two Cities_ from the Vulcan schoolteacher if I'd know how boring this would be!"

"I wish you had," the guard added.

"But why _those_ songs?" Julie asked.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "That's all I know with lyrics, except for the awful theme song they played on the prequel show _Star Trek: Enterprise_."

"Can't be more awful that the song about the crossdressers..." the guard said helpfully.

"I've never heard of those songs before, you know," Julie said conversationally.

"Good for you!" said the guard.

For the first time since they'd gotten there, Troi spoke. "Please stop with the commentary. My patient has just been reunited with a dear friend and you're insulting said friend's taste in music."

"But-"

"I won't hear any more from you. Any more complaining about Jonathan's taste in music and I'm reporting you."

The guard began muttering to himself about music being much more respectable during his teenage years.

This made Jonathan burst out laughing.

"I'll explain the joke later," he whispered to Julie.

After a moment of awkward silence, Counselor Troi pressed a button on the badge she wore. "Counselor Troi to Commander Riker."

 _"Riker here._ "

"Commander, I've got new information on our so-called invader. Meet me in the ready room in 20 minutes."

" _Fine. Riker out._ "

To his joy (and the guard's) Jonathan was let out of the brig. Julie gave him the letter she'd written about running into Mr. Data and the food replicator. By the time they'd gotten to the meeting room, Commander Riker was already standing their waiting for him.

Suddenly, Julie remembered something. "Didn't your friend tell you to 'stop behaving like Riker' or whatever? What was that about?"

"Ask me later. It's a bit of an inside joke that Commander Riker probably won't appreciate."

* * *

 **A/N: The reasons I decided that Jonathan should be a fan of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ were:**

 **\- The songs are very weird out of context (and in context, for that matter!)**

 **\- It's not well known in the US as a stage show, so an American fan of it might not know most Broadway stuff (which should explain why he won't get any of the _West Side Story_ references Q will make later)**

 **\- The poster is iconic enough that a theatre geek from the 24th century might recognize it**

 **I hope that makes sense.**

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: None of the characters/places in this are real.**

 **Disclaimer 2: _Star Trek_ belongs to Paramount Pictures. **

**A/N: The next few chapters will involve a lot more _West Side Story_ stuff. Quotes will probably be hidden here and there, lyrics will be intentionally alluded to by Q. Also, almost every original character will come to represent a character from West Side Story. Some of them obvious, some not. If the reader knows enough about West Side Story they might be able to guess some future plot twists. **

* * *

Jean-Luc Picard, Captain of the starship _Enterprise_ , sat at his desk and stared at his first officer.

"Two teenagers just appeared out of nowhere on _my_ ship? And they're claiming to be from Earth in the year 2015?"

Riker nodded. "Yes. Counselor Troi claims she can't detect any deceit in them. They're honestly from a parallel version of Earth where the wars never happened."

"I bet Q is behind this. He's always up to something," Picard said darkly.

An all to familiar being appeared in front of Picard's desk. "Correct, _mon capitaine_. It _is_ your old friend Q."

"What do you want this time?" Riker asked, arms crossed.

"The usual. Entertainment, something to laugh at."

Suddenly, the captain noticed something odd about Q's appearance. Instead of the usual Starfleet Captain uniform replica Q wore jeans, a yellow leather jacket, a blue tee shirt, and muddy sneakers.

"Who are those two teenagers and why are they here?" Picard asked.

Q laughed. "You'll see soon enough."

"Explain NOW, we haven't got time for games!" shouted Riker.

At that, Q began to snap his fingers... And sing. " _Boy, boy... Crazy boy! Get cool, boy... Got a rocket in your pocket... Keep cooly cool boy._ "

One last finger snap and he was gone.

"I don't get it."

"That song presumably has some significance. He's giving us a hint, I believe," Captain Picard said thoughtfully.

The Captain was right.

* * *

 _Snap. Snap. Snap…_

 _…_ went Geordi's fingers as he sat in the Ten Forward with Data.

"What are you doing, Geordi?"

"Hmm?"

"You appear to be snapping your fingers to a specific tune. One I don't appear to have in my records.

Geordi stared at the android. "Was I?"

"I believe so. Though it was not a song I know."

It wasn't just Geordi. Everyone on the _Enterprise_ was either snapping their fingers or humming that tune. Somehow nobody really noticed it. It was mere background noise, like the hum of low conversation before the curtain rises at a Broadway show.

And what a show it would be…

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Nobody in this is real in any way.**

 **Disclaimer 2: the songs from _West Side Story_ in this chapter doesn't belong to me. **

**A/N: I'll be closely following the plot of _West Side Story_ for the next few chapters. This chapter is basically the song _Tonight (Quintet)_ in written form. Some lyrics are paraphrased in the narration, while the bits in italics are the exact lyrics with a name changes ('Sharks' became ' _Star Wars_ Club', for example).Hopefully people who haven't seen _West Side Story_ will understand what's going on. **

* * *

Captain's Log, Stardate 69037.7 (June 28, 2015, 6:45 PM)

They've agreed to fight us. I once saw this as just a way to unify my crew, but I now see it as an opportunity to get rid of them. We'll definitely win the battle. Those troublemakers started it, and we better get rid of them once and for all. Tonight we prove Star Trek is better.

\- Patrick Barrett, Captain of the _Star Trek_ Club

* * *

 _The_ Star Trek _club is gonna have its day, tonight…_

* * *

The entire _Star Wars_ club (all 6 of them!) sat on the floor of Mark's basement, doing a wide variety of things. These things included… reading Expanded Universe novels; reciting favorite quotes at each other; and (in Daniel's case) being forced to watch the _Star Wars Holiday Special_ as penance for missing meetings.

Suddenly, Mark screeched: "SHUT UP! IT'S TIME FOR THE _ACTUAL_ MEETING!"

Everyone did so. Books were shelved and electronic devices shut off. All eyes were (metaphorically) on Mark.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, guys. Patrick sent a letter challenging us to an all-out fight… and I've told him we've agreed to it. I couldn't bring myself to back down…"

"Well, obviously," said Caroline, rolling her eyes. "We've got to defend the honor of George Lucas's masterpiece. _And_ get back at them for kidnapping Julie."

Caroline strongly (though mistakenly) believed that the Trekkies had kidnapped Julie. That made her even more eager to join in the fight.

So, they planned their attack. Everyone would get to wield a water pistol, with some of those filled with ghastly green food coloring instead of water.

They were so occupied with their grand plans that they didn't notice the music.

The entire _Star Wars_ club (all 6 of them!) sat on the floor of Mark's basement, doing a wide variety of things. These things included… reading Expanded Universe novels; reciting favorite quotes at each other; and (in Daniel's case) being forced to watch the _Star Wars Holiday Special_ as penance for missing meetings.

Suddenly, Mark screeched: "SHUT UP! IT'S TIME FOR THE _ACTUAL_ MEETING!"

Everyone did so. Books were shelved and electronic devices shut off. All eyes were (metaphorically) on Mark.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, guys. Patrick sent a letter challenging us to an all-out fight… and I've told him we've agreed to it. I couldn't bring myself to back down…""Well, obviously," said Caroline, rolling her eyes. "We've got to defend the honor of George Lucas's glorious masterpiece. _And_ get back at them for kidnapping Julie."

Caroline believed that the Trekkies had kidnapped Julie. That made her even more eager to join in the fight.

So, they planned their attack. Everyone would get to wield a water pistol, with some of those filled with ghastly green food coloring instead of water.

They were so occupied with their grand plans that they didn't notice the music. The song that played through their minds.

* * *

 _...the_ Star Wars _club is gonna have it's way, tonight_

* * *

The Holojournal of Mark, leader of the Rebel Alliance

(Fighting the Gallifreystown Empire since 2012)

June 28, 2015 [in the afternoon]

I don't think I've ever written two entries in one day before. Whatever. This day is very special. We're going to beat those stupid Trekkie in the fight tonight. Well, they began it. But we've had enough of their madness. So we better get rid of them once and for all, tonight.

* * *

(Jonathan's POV)

I wasn't allowed out of my quarters until Julie and her 'babysitter' showed up to take me to dinner. Not that it mattered. This time they gave me entertainment… sort of.

Reading a 600-page book about the _lovely_ history of Traditional Betazoid Weddings originally sounded like fun compared to noisily singing at an increasingly pissed-off guard. Of course, the only person that _book_ annoyed was I. They probably did it on _purpose_. I might even bet my beloved limited edition _Star Trek: First Contact_ poster that the guard wanted revenge and recommended that book.

Clever bastard.

At least I'd be seeing Julie soon. But 5 o'clock seemed days away. The minutes felt like hours… time went way too slowly.

"Hurry up and say it's 5, or I might go crazy!" I begged the digital clock that hung from the wall.

* * *

 _Tonight, tonight... won't be just any night... tonight there will be no morning star!_

* * *

June 28 (I think)

Dear Diary,

Until they can send me home I'm staying in a guest room on Deck 7. There are lots of rooms and levels here, which is very confusing. To my annoyance, I'm being 'babysat' by a lady named Ms. Tacitus. She's the history teacher at the school.

Apparently her coworker, Ms. T'Ellase, was the teacher who'd reported Jonathan. I found that highly amusing (unlike grumpy old Ms. Tacitus).

Speaking of Jonathan…

He's staying two rooms down from me. From what Ms. Tacitus says, I'm pretty sure he doesn't have somebody watching his every move. Lucky him! Thankfully, we're going to eat dinner together tonight. That means I get to see Jonathan and those awesome food-replicating-machine-thingys. That'll be so fun!

Oh, I can't wait for dinner tonight!

\- Julie

* * *

 _Tonight, tonight... I'll see my love tonight... And for us, stars will stop where they are!_

* * *

 **Here the trouble really begins...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Nobody in this is real. Everybody is _extremely_ fictional. **

**Disclaimer 2: I don't own the _Enterprise_ -D. Or the ideas I borrowed from _West Side Story_. **

**A/N: This is where it gets horribly depressing. Implied suicide and other terribleness. I actually cried writing part of it...**

 **I'm probably going to change the genre.**

* * *

After Julie and Jonathan finished eating dinner, their chaperone whisked Julie away without a proper goodbye. Oh well...

Jonathan slowly made his way back to his room. With no reason to hurry, he might as well enjoy wandering around one of the four starships he'd obsessed over nearly his entire life. He'd never thought in his wildest dreams that he'd ever be on this ship.

Especially in such strange circumstances.

When he got back to his room, he found a note just inside the door. To his surprise, it was written in Julie's handwriting.

It read:

 _Dearest Jonathan,_

 _Meet me in Cargo bay 11 as soon as possible_

Something seemed… _wrong_ about the note. Like it was a trick, a joke. But the handwriting looked exactly like the handwriting of that letter she'd given him a few days ago. He wasn't sure how Julie managed to get away from Ms. Tacitus.

 _Was I really wandering around for that long?_

Who _cared_! He'd get to see Julie again.

In the back of his mind he wondered how she knew where Cargo Bay 11 was. Or what a cargo bay even was!

 _She probably read through some floor plans or whatever._

Grinning, he left his quarters.

* * *

 _"_ _Security to Sick Bay."_

 _"_ _Sick Bay here."_

 _"_ _We were doing routine scans of the ship… and twelve unfamiliar life forms just appeared in Cargo Bay. All human, we believe."_

 _"_ _Isn't that your department?"_

 _"_ _Eight of them left the cargo bay and are wandering the hallways- just after one of them began… fading. I think_ that _person is dying"_

 _"_ _We're sending someone over right away."_

* * *

(about 20 minutes earlier)

It was 7:45 in the evening. The sun had hardly finished setting.

Both fan clubs had gathered on a street they, regrettably, shared. As soon as each side's respective leader gave the signal, it would begin.

Just as Mark was about to shout 'now!' something happened. The world around them all changed into something unfamiliar… at first. They were, Patrick realized, in a cargo bay on the _Enterprise_ -D.

At that moment Mark pulled the trigger on the water pistol in his hand... But, too his absolute horror, it had turned into a phaser. He'd accidentally shot Patrick in the stomach with a real weapon. A real, proper, extremely dangerous, easily fatal weapon. The Captain of the _Star Trek_ club was currently a crumbled heap on the floor.

Nearly everyone else fled the room at that point.

At that incredibly inconvenient moment, Jonathan wandered into the room. The second he saw Patrick lying limply on the floor, only one coherent thought existed in his sorrow-addled heart: _I must destroy that twisted bastard who freaking murdered him._

And then he saw Mark holding a phaser.

"What have you done?" Jonathan cried.

Mark just stared into space… clearly in dull, blank shock.

Without thinking, Jonathan ran over to Mark and tried to wrestle the phaser out of his grip. "Give that weapon to me, Mark... NOW!"

"So you can kill me?" Mark asked, his voice completely emotionless.

 _Not to kill again. To avoid another sickening tragedy…_

Jonathan kept trying to tear the weapon away from Mark... But it somehow went off again. Mark crumpled to the floor. Now Jonathan couldn't move... Mark's eyes were still open. They blamed him, hated him, watched him...

Ensign Michael, who'd been hiding behind some boxes, grabbed Mark by the arm. "Run, Jonathan. Get away..."

"I..."

"You _didn't_ do anything. It was suicide. Just _run!_ "

Those words triggered something in Jonathan grief-numbed mind. He dashed out of the cargo bay, his eyes burning with tears. A moment later, Michael followed.

* * *

 _"This poor kid's dead. And they said he's no older than 17."_

 _"So_ both _of them are dead? And security just says they just showed up out of nowhere? This is horrible."_

 _"According to the autopsies, one died of a phaser wound to the stomach and the other got shot in the left side."_

 _"I heard the Doc say that she would've called that second one a suicide if the security had managed to find the weapon."_

 _"Suicide is really rare these days, I always thought. This makes no sense."_

 _"You know what? I thought that people only ever died on away missions. It's really quite scary, people dying on the ship. It makes it more real. Too real."_

 _"But they're aren't from around here, remember. They're practically aliens."_

 _"No. They are both_ completely _human. I'm never done an autopsy on a normal human before. I've never done an autopsy on a kid before. So much for that perfect Federation everybody talks about…"_

* * *

 **A/N: I know this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I thought that any more story would be too weird. Also, I hope this isn't too horribly depressing.** _  
_

 **As usual, please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: none of the characters are real or based on real people.**

 **Disclaimer 2: Star Trek and it's characters belong to Paramount pictures and other people who aren't me. All the Phantom of the Opera stuff belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

 **A/N: It gets even weirder now. I really don't know why Michael turns into an incarnation the Phantom of the Opera... it just sort of happened. Like _the Rocky Horror Picture Show_ (which I've referenced way to much already), it keeps getting weirder and weirder and weirder... **

* * *

Of course, Jonathan didn't actually run very far. He got on the first turbolift he came across. This might've been a worse idea than running through the hallways, seeing that he was much more likely to run in to somebody.

But Jonathan wasn't thinking very sensibly. All he wanted to do was get away from Mark's lifeless eyes…

 _Hit any button, any floor. Anywhere that's not here._

"I sense great heartache in you. And fear."

Apparently he had been so caught up in his own mind that he hadn't noticed somebody else standing there. Counselor Troi.

He'd always hated her character when he watched the TV show. Always stating the complete obvious and generally being in the way of everything. Nearly every incarnation of _Star Trek_ included a female character that wore tight/low cut outfits. This annoyed Jonathan, because all that did was attract 'fake-fans' who only wanted to see women in tight clothes. Characters like Seven-of-Nine, T'Pol… but Troi was, according to Jonathan, the most annoying. The others actually did something useful (besides look attractive).

"Sod off," Jonathan told her bluntly.

The doors to the Turbolift opened. Jonathan quickly exited, not caring what part of the ship he was on.

 _Hopefully Troi has someone else she's supposed to be getting in the way of._

To Jonathan's frustration, the counselor wasn't busy.

She also exited the Turbolift, and then grabbed him by the collar before he could run off again. "We need to talk. Something is very wrong, I _know_."

"Just because something in the world is wrong, doesn't mean that you're involved," Jonathan pointed out.

"I sense that you are very angry."

"I sense that you are a busybody with no social life and a misled sense of what the phrase 'work-appropriate clothing' means."

"Enough. Come to my office now or I'll call security."

Jonathan gave up.

* * *

Smiling to herself, Julie went to bed. Dinner with Jonathan had been so fun. She hoped that Ms. Tacitus would allow such a thing again.

Speaking of Ms. Tacitus…

That teacher had left Julie's quarters under the impression that the girl was not able to cause trouble while asleep. Of course, Julie wasn't actually asleep. Her eyes were tightly closed as she attempted to sleep. The giddy feeling in her heart wouldn't stop making her wish to see Jonathan again.

A little while after Ms. Tacitus left, Julie got out of her bed. The girl began dancing around the room and singing. The odd part was that she had never heard the song… and she'd always been a terrible singer. Now she sang in a clear soprano voice that she hardly considered her own.

" _Father once spoke of an angel. I used to dream he'd appear. Now as I sing, I can sense him… And I know he's here! Here in this room he calls me softly… Somewhere inside, hiding. Somehow I know he's always with me. He, the unseen genius_ "

If she hadn't been under a mysterious spell of sorts, she would've reminded herself that her parents were atheists. And that she never sang. And that she'd never heard voices, _especially_ in a room she'd only been in for a few hours.

Oddly, another voice began to sing,

" _Insolent boy, this slave of_ Star Trek _, basking in your glory. Ignorant fool! This too-old suitor, sharing my beloved_!"

Maybe Angels _did_ exist, thought Julie. That voice sounded quite saintly.

For no clear reason, Julie began to sing. " _Angel, I hear you. Speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me… Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master_."

" _Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in shadows I hide. Look at your face in the mirror… I'm there, inside_!" the voice sang in reply.

The still-sane part of Julie reminded her that there wasn't a mirror anywhere in the entire apartment. That full-length looking glass must be a hallucination…

But that mystical spell caused her to slowly walk toward the mirror. " _Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer… Come to me, strange angel._ "

" _I am your angel of music... Come to me, angel of music…_ "

* * *

Michael was nearly in shock. He madly searched for any other member of his fanclub… or even the other club. After a while he gave up. He collapsed against a wall, hardly able to keep his eyes open. Too tired…

Suddenly the wall disappeared… or he fell through it… or _something._

Whatever had happened, it caused Michael to be lying on his back in an unfamiliar room. _And_ wearing different clothes. Even in the near darkness he could figure that out. A tuxedo felt quite different that his other outfit. Especially one with suspiciously different undergarments. With the help of a lit candelabra sitting on a nearby shelf, he (sort of) figured out where he was: a dusty, gloomy hallway full of cobwebs. He suddenly felt a bizarrely irresistible urge to sing… and walk down the hallway.

" _Insolent boy, this slave of_ Star Trek _, basking in your glory. Ignorant fool! This too-old suitor, sharing my beloved_!" he belted dramatically, with inexplicable passion.

This (along with the fact that his legs weren't listening to his brain anymore) freaked him out. He now stood behind a door. A soprano voice sang some kind of response to him. Something about an angel, maybe?

To Michael's annoyance, he began to sing again. " _Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in shadows I hide. Look at your face in the mirror… I'm there, inside!_ "

Again, the female voice responded. Again, he heard the word 'angel'.

The door began to open very slowly…

Against his will, Michael began to sing again. " _I am your angel of music... Come to me, angel of music…_ "

The door opened completely… and he stared in wide-eyed surprise at a rather stoned-looking Julie. Another song began and now they both look a bit stoned (thanks to the odd magic that possessed them).

* * *

 **A/N** : **I hope this isn't too strange. It'll make more sense later... probably.**

 **Please review...**


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